A young girl with a pelt of rusted bark tones had been drawn here, by the scent of old power, of a group of women who seemed to have once owned this strange human creation. She stepped onto the deck, looking around and taking in the strange sights. The open maw of a door beckoned to her eerily, and she stepped through, her orchid tinted orbs adjusting to the lack of light rather quickly. There were furs piled in every corner of the room, furs from animals; deer, squirrel, badger, one wolf pelt, and a few others that she didn't want to spend time trying to name. The scents of power and darkness filled the air, but the petite fae didn't dwell on that. Instead she followed a long stairwell into the belly of the beast, finding many other dens within it, some looking decorated by wolves who had lived there, others looking like they had simply been used for sleep and nothing more. It was interesting, and seemed to show how devoted each wolf was to the pack, each she wolf, by their ever dissipating scents. The ivory masked girl's small paws made no sound but the occasional creak on the warped wood of the floor. Her interest was piqued, but she didn't really want to stay much longer. At the end of the hall, a hole in the metal seemed to serve as a back entrance, or an escape route. It was just big enough for her to fit through, by the looks of it. Her sweet pink eyes flickered over the rusted edges, the sharp parts protruding from it, and felt it wouldn't be safe to risk, and began to return the way she came. ?Row row row your boat, gently down the stream, merrily merrily merrily life is but a dream.? She sang softly to herself, smiling as her angelic alto vocals ricocheted off every surface and projected throughout the empty, silent ship. Soon she was stepping back into the sunlight, and took a deep breath of the fresh air. Seating herself on the weather beaten wood planks, she watched the terrain around her, and waited for whatever came next. ?Speech?

Slow were the lyrics that trickled through the odd environment. The massive structure that only, somewhat, stood shattered and broken everywhere had long ago pulled his interest, but it was not a place for wolves-not given the ferocity of winter so far north. His nose wrinkled in distaste as the wind picked up and danced through his coat. It was not devastating; merely displeasing. The Arkhos followed the lyrics of the supple young woman and refused to halt until his eyes were trained easily on her--examining her odd beauty from afar (forget some of how familiar to the Armada she looked). Still, the emperor did not stir with lust for her and he did not wish to make her his own. They came to him not he unto them. "Silly girl," he seemed to purr his sentence before he slipped from hiding in the brush he had trailed through and his teal gaze watched her--waiting. "Pretty girls tend to get harmed so far out here," when they are alone.

A male with a similar pelt tone to her own appeared close to her, a deep rumbling voice coming from his obsidian lips. She turned to face him, a little startled by his sudden appearance. She noticed he was missing the flesh on his lower jaw, his face half missing. How strange, and slightly gross looking. Catching the end of his sentence, she rolled her orchid pigmented optics. She didn't care about the danger, she was just looking around. Gosh, it was like he was her father or something. Which he definitely wasn't, she knew that for a fact. She met his teal blue gaze with her own muted pink orbs, letting her voice escape her throat smoothly. "You shouldn't sneak up on others like that, someone might rip off the other half of your face." She replied, her sweet alto vocals dripping with sarcasm. The cold buffeted her tiny body, but she paid it no attention, her thick fur kept her well insulated out here. "But whatever. I'm Eulari Armada, and you are...?" She asked, trailing off so he would be able to fill in his name at any point. She knew she was playing with fire, the thick cords of muscle covering his large frame beneath that fiery pelt were obvious as the white snow all around them, but she didn't care, she was having a little fun, poking the sleeping dragon. Speech,